Taking a Bath
by KeepingFilmAlive
Summary: Taking a nice hot bath to calm the nerves seemed like a nice idea, especially after the events of the past month or so. His brain felt like it was like going through thermal shock, losing his wife and regaining his best friend/maybe something else. Made for a gifset on Tumblr. Light angst.


Title: Bath Time

Pairing: John Watson and Mary Morstan + John Watson and Sherlock Holmes

Fandom: Sherlock BBC

Rated: T

Notes: This was written for this gifset on Tumblr right here: post/36560760791/hotbritishguyspluscats-matin-freeman-in-a

Reviews are love!

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With all of the events in the past several weeks, John did his very best not to implode. With this deadly mixture of grieving husband, returned dead best friend, the clinic eventually calling him in several times during his grieving period, and returned dead best friend taking up temporary residence in his and Mary's home, he found this 'not imploding' thing quite difficult to do. Yes, this is still his and Mary's home, she may be gone now, but bless him, John will always carry her in his heart. Plus, technically, as Sherlock pointed out, her name is still on the papers, though that's not exactly the point he'd been aiming for in his argument.

John just needed to be alone and though Sherlock was downstairs doing God knows what with his kitchen, the tired doctor decided to take a nice long bubble bath. Yes, a bubble bath, not because he particularly feels like soaking in lavender scented suds, but because he misses Mary and relaxing in a hot bubble bath together was always her way of getting John to calm his nerves when he was being decidedly grumpy due to work. So he filled the tub up with water, stripped out of his work clothes, poured in the bubble solution, and slipped into the steaming pool, pausing momentarily with a hiss when his goods dipped in.

"Maybe a little too hot." John cupped himself and lowered the rest of his body in.

After waiting a few moments, he let go of himself and shut the water off. The subtle lavender scent lingered up to his nose. His eyes closed. He imagined her giggling and stepping in, her lovely thighs right in his line of sight as she sat down between his legs. Hands on his chest. Lips all over his skin. Smile more beautiful and radiant than the sun itself.

And then a cough.

John cringed and splashed some water over his head before the tears began to fall. He wouldn't let this, this memory, this activity, be defiled by his sadness or tears. By God, he was not going to let this happy memory be destroyed by his weakness. Not again.

Laying back against the warm ceramic, he closes his eyes again and attempts to clear his mind. He doesn't get very far because as soon as his eyes are fully closed, the bathroom door opens slowly and out of reflex he's pulling bubbles forward to hide his man bits. Sherlock stands in the doorway with his typical blank expression, though it looks a tad forced if John's to be honest. In his damn purple shirt and ever-perfectly-tailored black slacks, he holds a simple metal tray with a cuppa in the center.

Since he'd popped back into John's life, he'd been doing things like this, simple displays of appreciation which are actually huge- no- GARGANTUAN attempts to apologize and make John not-so-much-maybe-a-little-okay-entirely hate him. It was annoying, but nice if John must admit. Sherlock's general sense of timing was just as bloody awful as it was three years ago, though.

"Uh- Sherlock, I'm in the middle of… I mean thank you, but could that wait?" Sherlock looked down at the cup of tea and inhaled deeply. John tensed awkwardly when Sherlock walked forward as if he never spoke and offered up the cup on the tray. A reluctant hand reached out and gripped the handle of the white mug, Sherlock walked off to the pile of clothes on the floor. "Wai- um- Sherlock-"

"Drink your tea and take your bath, John. I'll return with clean clothes in a moment."

"You really don't have to, it's kind, but I can do it myself." John rubbed at the back of his neck, bringing his hand down over his shoulder in a subconscious way of soothing himself, this is such an awkward situation. Most of why being obvious, but the main reason being the one thing they have yet to discuss.

The kiss. The kiss when Sherlock swept in from the shadows to take down the punk that was about to off John. The kiss that John had never expected he'd ever get from that right git because he was so blind to emotions when it concerns himself. Yeah, they were going to have a nice little chat about that when he was ready.

Sherlock's posture snapped straight suddenly, John nearly spilt his tea in the tub at the sudden movement. "I've spent the last three years doing everything possible to keep you safe and alive at a distance. Now that I am granted access to your presence again, I fully intend to use this time to keep you comfortable and from falling apart at the seams, as they say. It's been far too long since I've been able to interact with you, if I were spending this time doing anything else, I'd be a fool. Stop asking me to stop because I have no intention of doing so."

John turned and looked at Sherlock, unsure of what to do or say or feel. He knew Sherlock was stubborn and that there was no point in arguing, sure enough the look on the bloke's face only ensured him that arguing would be useless. Sherlock glanced at the cup in John's hand and back to his face. The hint was taken. John didn't say another word. He took a sip of tea and rubbed his shoulder again.

"It's good. Thank you… Sherlock… You know, I think you would have liked Mary. She was different- well... Maybe not so much to you, but..." Sherlock paused mid-walk to the door and pivoted on his heel to look at John in the eye as he said what left his mouth next.

"John, in my time observing you from a distance, I saw how happy she made you. She made you smile again when I had almost lost hope for you. She made you laugh. She made you love. And for that reason alone, John, I did not like her." This is the second time in the last two minutes that John had nearly dropped his cup into the tub.

"Sherlock, what the-"

"I adored her."

And with that, Sherlock left the bathroom to fetch John his clean clothes. The bath wound up being a success, John had never felt more content or relaxed in the last three years.


End file.
